Dissociate
by Constable Kookie
Summary: Dumbledore decides to give Harry a fighting chance by allowing Harry the oppertunity to learn how to fight and kill at a young age. Eventually this takes a toll on Harry's mind and Severus has to put his grudge of James Potter behind him in order to pick up the pieces and heal Harry. Severitus. Slightly AU.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any profit from writing this.**

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><p><strong>Dissociate<strong>

Dumbledore sighed as he gazed out the window. He had just had a meeting with Vernon Dursley who had been very clear on his reasons for housing Harry Potter. Vernon was a very greedy man and before his wife had been pregnant with Dudley, he had been involved in some shady business. These business ventures often involved dealings with the Mafia. Dumbledore was only familiar with the basics that had transgressed between the Mafia and Vernon.

The end result was that Vernon had agreed to house Harry Potter so long as he, in the eyes of the Mafia, was claimed as Vernon's son. This was done to protect his real son, Dudley, seeing as the notorious gang were hellbent on exacting their revenge by killing Vernon's son.

Dumbledore had agreed to using his magic and making it seem to most of the world as though Vernon's son was Harry Potter while Vernon's real son posed as some poor orphan that the Dursley's had kindly taken in. However, Dumbledore had made it very clear that Harry should have a fighting chance against the Mafia to which Vernon reluctantly agreed.

Thus by the time Harry was five, he was trained how to fight and how to kill.

By the time Harry was seven, he had killed his first victim.

By the time Harry was nine, he stopped looking in the mirror.

By the time Harry was eleven, he just stopped caring.

~Dissociate~

"Here hold the gun like this and shoot it at the mannequin directly between its eyes," Harry's instructor handed him the gun. He clasped the gun with two shaking and sweaty hands. He gulped audibly and tried to quell his furiously beating heart as beads of sweat licked their way down his face and palms. His throat was parched as he gazed at the life like mannequin of a woman with blonde hair and green eyes. He closed his eyes and fired the shot. The power from the bullet leaving the nuzzle sent him careening backwards.

He looked to see his bullet dent the metallic wall behind the mannequin. He had missed again. His instructor just gazed at him apathetically and silently handed him the gun that had fallen on the floor.

The instructor pulled Harry from the ground roughly and shoved the gun in his hand while simultaneously taking out another gun from his pocket.

"Harry, if you don't shoot the mannequin right between it's eyes in the next thirty seconds, I will kill you."

Harry's eyes widened and his heart halted momentarily. His face became blank. Suddenly it seemed so easy. He raised his arms and fired.

Directly between the eyes.

And he smiled.

Hollowly.

**~Dissociate~**

Harry was being chased by figures donned in black. He quickly hid in an alleyway. He knew the respite was temporary and he would have to think quick. He had left his gun in the cupboard under the stairs because he hadn't thought he would need it as he was only going for a walk along Magnolio Crescent. Unfortunately he had been cornered in the park and it was only his ability to lie flawlessly that gave him the thirty second head start.

As he tried to reign in his breath, he pulled his shoe off and pried the sole of his shoe off to retrieve the items stowed in the compartment. He had a switchblade and a matchbox. He smiled victoriously.

Harry quickly ran across the street to the abandoned building. He was immediately chased by his pursuers. Harry quickly scouted the area for potential threats before grabbing the bottle of cooking oil that was lying carelessly on the counter. He ran out the backdoor at the same time as his pursuers entered the kitchen. He quickly lit a fire by the door and and doused it with the cooking oil he had found. Unfortunately he had burnt his hand slightly in the process.

He watched with muted satisfaction as the kitchen caught fire. It was the right amount of diversion he needed to escape to the confines of his cupboard. As he ran out into the road, someone grabbed his shoulder. Harry immediately took his switchblade and jammed it in the person's neck. He felt the blade meet a fleshy neck as blood spurted out. He looled behind him before he pelted down the street, his heart beating haphazardly from the exhilaration of the chase.

Once he was ensconced in his cupboard, he tried to sleep but his overactive mind kept recalling the images of the man he had killed. The way his eyes had widened. The way his eyes had become hollow as the blood kept oozing out the slit of the man's chubby neck. How his chest had been panting harshly before receding to a gentle stop as his eyes closed shut.

Harry shuddered and pulled the thin, thread-bare blanket over his head. He tried to stop the plethora of questions pounding his brain simultaneously.

_Did this man have children?_

_Did he have a dream he wanted to fulfill?_

_Was he scared of death._

Harry was scared of death. That is why he would do anything, absolutely anything to survive. It was what he was trained to be. He remembered the cold words of his instructor.

I_f you want to survive then you have to learn how to kill properly._

_You may be a little boy but you are a survivor first._

Harry didn't know what his instructor meant but those words managed to soothe him into a somewhat restless sleep.

**~Dissociate~**

Over the years, Harry's uncle had left him alone. The family practically ignored him. Vernon was a little scared of his nephew and, as a result, had treated his presence as one would treat an annoying fly. He had encouraged the rest of the family to do the same. They fed him once a day and allowed him out of the closet for the washroom followed by a glass of water three times a day as well as Harry's special lessons. Occasionally he would let him out for a walk. However, Vernon had tried to take his anger out on Harry today by punching him across the force. Harry had been dazed momentarily by the unexpected blow.

Harry had retaliated by digging his nimble fingers into the hollow part of Vernon's fat neck and grabbing the cleft of bone before pulling on it. He watched in muted satisfaction as Vernon struggled for breath, falling to his knees and trying to pry Harry's bony fingers away from his neck. Harry let go and Vernon fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

Harry went to the washroom and gazed into the mirror hanging on the wall. For some reason, he felt disgusted by what he saw.

The frail body with a tangle of jet black hair that looked like it had never seen a comb in its life was nothing out of the ordinary. Nor were the emerald green eyes that had become jaded throughout the years. It was the secrets the eyes behind the wiry spectacles held.

Secrets no one could see.

But he could understand.

He drew his fist back and smashed it into the mirror, watching with satisfaction as the shards scattered to the floor.

**~Dissociate~**

Harry stared in surprise at the letter addressed to him. The address was accurate to a fault which arose slight suspicion in him. Thus proceeding with caution, he extracted a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his second-hand jeans, courtesy of his cousin, and slit open the envelope before reading the contents of the later.

He didn't know what to think. He was a wizard. Magic was real. He supposed that might explain the obscure events that had, at times, saved his life. He decided he would talk to his instructor about this later. They would have a better understanding of this nonsense.

Either way Harry didn't care if this was some sort of ludicrous joke or not.

So long as he survived.

He just didn't care.

**~Dissociate~**

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><p><strong>I know its not that good but its only the prologue. so please tell me what you think.<strong>

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